January in Minnesota is truly not for the faint of heart. Our first winter here is one of the coldest since 2000. We had record snowfall for the month of December and near record breaking subzero air temperatures this past weekend. In order to venture out you need to spend 10 minutes putting on required garb. Even to take out the trash, you cannot just dash from the back door to the bin in anything less than a hat, boots, jacket and gloves. Your hands will stick to the metal on the screen door, your nose hairs will freeze and your skin will sting if exposed to the piercing cold. We look like bank robbers when we go out to walk Tucker with our black face mask and hat pulled low in our puffy down coats and insulated gloves.
With that said, it takes great planning to get both ourselves and Cole ready for a journey out of the house. Cole's snowsuit is so thick he can barely move once we wrestle him into it so you have to leave that until last as he doesn't like the inability to move. The problem is that once you have all your layers on, you begin to heat up quickly so the sheer exercise of putting Cole into his snowsuit leaves you sweating. This whole scenario can add quite a bit of time to getting out the door, so you have to begin ahead of when you think you want to actually pull out of the driveway and then add some more time for last minute diaper changes, meltdowns etc. Once you get into the garage and start the car, you now have to attempt to get him into his carseat with your gloves on. This is a futile act but I find myself attempting to manage in such a manner each and every time. The straps and buckles are just too tiny to snap into place with bulky fleece gloves. I find myself pulling off the gloves in a race to get him into his seat before he moves and I have to reposition the straps lengthening the time my hands are exposed to the icy air. In the "comfort" of our garage, this is tolerable. In the parking lot at Target as the arctic winds whip around me, I curse silently.
We when arrive at a destination, before you open the door, you plan your path which means whatever way is fastest. You must remember that the parking lots and streets are continually snow and ice covered so your footing is crucial as you race walk with your heads down to get inside. Once back into the dry overheated warmth you have to unzipper jackets and remove hats only to repeat the aforementioned process all over when we depart.
Shorts and t-shirts will never feel so good as they will approximately 100 days from now.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
A winter walk in the woods...
With another big chill (we are talking highs in the single digits) due to settle in by midweek, I have learned to take advantage of clear, calm days with temperatures above 20 degrees to get out and fill my tank with crisp fresh air. So today Cole and I went meandering through the Nature Preserve which is all but 3 miles from our house. We have visited several times since our move here but not yet during the quiet winter months.
Yesterday we had a dusting of new snow which carpeted what was left of our record snowfall. The untouched snowflakes sparkled in the weak January sun reminding me of the power of glare. The winter informational signs were posted and I stopped and read about the often overlooked creation and shape of the six sided wonders.
We started off on the Marsh Trail which circled around the lake. My footsteps were softened and muffled by the fresh layer of snow. Cole babbled from his perch up in the carrier, all bundled in his downy snowsuit. He has been enjoying his new ride and perspective and I have enjoyed becoming more mobile with him without the constraints of using the stroller.
As we found our pace, my movement steady, Cole quieted and within 10 minutes he had fallen asleep. I had my mind to myself to clear out the cobwebs and I took the peaceful opportunity to make many an observation.
The trail looped over the lake in places via a boardwalk. Only three months ago, the cattails that surrounded the water were swaying in the autumn breeze. Now they were frozen in place as the lake was a block of ice, literally. Their once smooth brown bodies now frayed and swollen with their innards puffing out like an old couch loosing its stuffing. The creak of the boardwalk was now not the give and take of the floats that kept it above water but of my weight pressing the wood against the icy surface.
The big looming trees looked frail and weary posing stark and naked against the winter sky. The newly fallen snow lay punctured on the sharp brambles and branches, their hardness to protect those who would turn supple and green again in the spring.
As I continued on up the Pine Trail and we made our way through the trees, the trail was less traveled and the footprints of the wood's critters were visible; deer, fox, rabbit. I looked around and wondered where they all were hiding as there were few places to remain incognito.
The sound of my breath and my foot falls were all the noise that existed. No birds chirping, no water lapping, no wind whistling. Just the quiet and solitude of a winter day.
Cole began to awake with a few adorable sighs as if he knew our hike was coming to an end. As he began to chatter we engaged in conversation about all the things that I wanted to teach and show him about the wonders of nature and how some day I hoped that he would enjoy getting out whatever the season to enjoy some fresh air!
Yesterday we had a dusting of new snow which carpeted what was left of our record snowfall. The untouched snowflakes sparkled in the weak January sun reminding me of the power of glare. The winter informational signs were posted and I stopped and read about the often overlooked creation and shape of the six sided wonders.
We started off on the Marsh Trail which circled around the lake. My footsteps were softened and muffled by the fresh layer of snow. Cole babbled from his perch up in the carrier, all bundled in his downy snowsuit. He has been enjoying his new ride and perspective and I have enjoyed becoming more mobile with him without the constraints of using the stroller.
As we found our pace, my movement steady, Cole quieted and within 10 minutes he had fallen asleep. I had my mind to myself to clear out the cobwebs and I took the peaceful opportunity to make many an observation.
The trail looped over the lake in places via a boardwalk. Only three months ago, the cattails that surrounded the water were swaying in the autumn breeze. Now they were frozen in place as the lake was a block of ice, literally. Their once smooth brown bodies now frayed and swollen with their innards puffing out like an old couch loosing its stuffing. The creak of the boardwalk was now not the give and take of the floats that kept it above water but of my weight pressing the wood against the icy surface.
The big looming trees looked frail and weary posing stark and naked against the winter sky. The newly fallen snow lay punctured on the sharp brambles and branches, their hardness to protect those who would turn supple and green again in the spring.
As I continued on up the Pine Trail and we made our way through the trees, the trail was less traveled and the footprints of the wood's critters were visible; deer, fox, rabbit. I looked around and wondered where they all were hiding as there were few places to remain incognito.
The sound of my breath and my foot falls were all the noise that existed. No birds chirping, no water lapping, no wind whistling. Just the quiet and solitude of a winter day.
Cole began to awake with a few adorable sighs as if he knew our hike was coming to an end. As he began to chatter we engaged in conversation about all the things that I wanted to teach and show him about the wonders of nature and how some day I hoped that he would enjoy getting out whatever the season to enjoy some fresh air!
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Something for the New Year...
I haven't had a lot of time lately to productively write and complete a worthwhile post. Ideas come to me at random moments normally while I am unable to capture them on paper or via my cyber pen. I say to myself that I will remember those quick flashes of insights but I never do *sigh*. So to put something on the board for 2008 in my quest to post every seven days, I am including the statement below which I got from a book I just finished. It took me 9 weeks to read the 400 pages *sigh* as I was only able to read 10-12 pages a few nights a week before I succumbed to my daily fatigue.
From "Because I said So" by Kate Moses
"Learning to surf is a lot like learning to mother. I have the gear, I understand the theory and I have occasional success. But the ocean doesn't stay still and neither do kids. Stable ground exists but only under powerful ever changing currents. Paddling out takes strength, persistence and the ability to roll under the crashing waves. I have days where I don't think I'm going to make it only to forget my worries as the sun shines in lighting up my kid's faces making me smile. I have the rest of my life to get this parenting thing down, meanwhile I am wowed by my kids laughter , amazed at their brilliance and the love that surrounds me"
From "Because I said So" by Kate Moses
"Learning to surf is a lot like learning to mother. I have the gear, I understand the theory and I have occasional success. But the ocean doesn't stay still and neither do kids. Stable ground exists but only under powerful ever changing currents. Paddling out takes strength, persistence and the ability to roll under the crashing waves. I have days where I don't think I'm going to make it only to forget my worries as the sun shines in lighting up my kid's faces making me smile. I have the rest of my life to get this parenting thing down, meanwhile I am wowed by my kids laughter , amazed at their brilliance and the love that surrounds me"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)